


What The Hex

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Curses, Fluff, Halloween, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Smut, Piano Louis, Pining, Unrequited Love, Vintage Shop Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 18:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21257831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: “Fuck,” Harry put the piano to rest in the cove under the stairs.“You can say that again,” Louis leaned against the stairs to breathe.“Fuck,” Harry teased, a crooked grin flashing his imperfect teeth.“Steady, now,” Louis straightened up to smile openly. “A guy could think that was invitation...”A dark flush appeared on Harry’s chest that definitely wasn’t a result of shifting heavy instruments.“Going to show me how you play?” Harry asked; and it sounded like innuendo but Louis was too afraid to assume.They might have been flirting for the last nine months but it had never gone beyond that, Harry usually the one to pour cool water on their heated exchanges.“Actually, you could help me to tune it,” Louis invited, not wanting Harry to leave yet. He liked how natural Harry looked in his cottage; all tall and lean and pretty.





	What The Hex

_ Halloween, 2019. _

It was a wet night; the kind of rain that splattered so forcefully on the window that it made you jolt in surprise.

Louis Tomlinson wasn’t afraid of storms. He actually kind of enjoyed them. As long as he was inside his cottage with a snuggly jumper on and the windows firmly _closed._

He thought he heard a knock at the cottage door but shook away the crazy idea since the only people going door to door in such ravaging weather would be flood rescuers and it didn’t look bad enough for _that _just yet.

The rain was no longer falling in droplets. It was pelting in fat splodges that sounded like water balloons exploding on the glass.

It wasn’t the kind of weather that trick-or-treaters would venture out in. And his little cottage on the moor, scattered wide apart from two others, was probably a little _too _remote to hike out to from the village anyway.

There were only a few children who’d coerce their parents into taking them across the moor; usually kids Louis had met through his piano lessons and who wanted to see him outside of their schooling.

It was right after the next crack of lightning that Louis heard the scratching noise occur.

Comfortably laid out on his sofa and blanketed with his favourite throw; he wasn’t eager to disturb his little nest that he’d built which included a book, a box of tissues, some snacks and a Ribena within reach.

He tried to ignore the inevitability of having to leave the comforting warmth of his hovel to investigate the annoying noise. Either a branch was scraping at his door or a fox was seeking refuge.

He wasn’t about to let wild animals in from the storm, he mused. He flapped his throw off his legs and reluctantly got up.

His soft, warm jogging bottoms and hoodie (with the hood up) didn’t feel thick enough as he crossed the room to the front door, peeking out the eye-hole first to check for creepy- looking murderers who might be scraping his door as a ruse to tempt him outside.

His heart rhythm settled mildly when the view came back clear.

“Let's see what it is, then,” he murmured to himself, unlatching the safety chain to jolt the door open.

_Meow._

Louis' heart shot into his throat at the helpless cry, his chin dipping as he shot his gaze to the ground to search for the mewling cat.

He needn’t look far; a pitch black feline was sat there quite pristine if it wasn’t for the fact their fur was so wet it stuck to their body; tail swishing pitifully as the animal looked up at him with impossibly large eyes.

The cat was beautiful; so dark that Louis couldn’t make out their features but the huge black pupils and unusual green eyes had him a little bit breathless.

“Oh.”

_Meow._

“Well, you’re very polite,” Louis marvelled. “Normally strays just—” He cut himself off as the animal darted inside the house, through the gap between himself and the door. “Let themselves in,” he finished ruefully.

By the time he had hefted his somewhat cantankerous old oak door back into the stone wall and twisted with a bemused, “Hey!”, the night-coloured creature had already jumped up onto the sofa and was circling his previous seat to find the most comfortable spot.

“Hey, that’s my seat!” Louis started toward the beast huffily.

_Meow._

Those huge eyes stilled him, mid-stride, the wet animal beseeching him cutely.

Louis heeded the prickle of his conscience and sighed.

“Oh, alright then... but only once you’re dry!” He added quickly as the cat stretched and laid down in a straight line.

The cat licked itself; no collar visible on its neck.

“Don’t you belong to somebody?” Louis asked, approaching slowly and pulling off his hoodie to hopefully wrap the animal in it to dry them off.

Luckily, it was friendly, watching him with those unnerving eyes as he swaddled his jumper around it carefully to pick it up.

“You need a name,” Louis murmured. “You’ve probably already got one but we’re going to have to pretend you don’t, alright?”

_Meow._

“Right, let’s have a think...” Louis relaxed a bit, settling back and lifting the animal fully into his lap. “We know that you’re a _boy_...”

The cat looked up at him; all dark, damp fur and huge spell-binding eyes.

“How about Colin?” He suggested; the name slipping into his mind easily.

The vintage shop in the village had once had a taxidermy kitten that the owner had named Colin and he had spoken to him as though he was real. He liked to perch Colin in the doorway to startle customers on their way in. The little stuffed animal had also been black but it had yellow eyes instead of the mesmerising green of Louis' visitor.

The cat in front of him meowed in apparent acceptance of his new name.

“Is there some kind of bad voodoo for crossing paths with a black cat on Halloween?” Louis asked next.

Colin purred, nonplussed.

Louis decided he’d Google the answer once Colin was settled.

“Right, you’re nearly dry and I expect you’re hungry?”

_Meow_.

“Of course you are...” Louis got up and balled up his now-damp jumper in his hand to throw in his laundry pile.

Colin quickly hopped into the bum-sized space and flopped onto his side.

“You can sit there while I’m making your dinner,” Louis allowed. “But don’t get comfortable...”

He eyed the armchair and then the second sofa and wrinkled his nose. He’d just got cosy on the two-seater he really didn’t fancy moving to another chair.

//

Louis returned with some cuts of cooked chicken and a mug of water that would be a makeshift bowl for Colin to drink out of.

Stray cats couldn’t get fussy if they wanted to be fed and hydrated.

“Right, Colin,” Louis strolled into the room and placed the two receptacles on the hearth beside his electric fire that nestled in the fireplace of the old grate.

He straightened up to find Colin asleep. Fast asleep, in fact, nose to tail in an adorable curl.

“You’re not hungry anymore, I see,” Louis mused.

It was evident that he had, in fact, lost his seat. Shifting the animal out of his favoured nestling spot was an option but something in his tummy twisted at seeing the little feline all cosy. He’d been out in the storm in that cold wicked rain and thumping wind and maybe Louis could allow him the warmest spot for a few hours while he rested.

“Where’ve you been, eh, kitty?”

Louis left the sidelight on before he climbed the stairs to his bedroom; deciding to shut the door in case his new house-guest decided to sneak into his room in the night. He didn’t need to be woken with a cardiac arrest at the unexpected sensation of a cat walking on top of his bed covers.

Tomorrow he’d start looking for Colin's owner once the rain stopped.

//

The rain didn’t stop.

Louis planned to post pictures on the Facebook group for the village but when he’d slumped down the stairs the next morning; the night visitor was nowhere to be found.

The water and food bowls were empty and Louis wasn’t quite sure _how _Colin had gotten out. But unless he was hiding in the farthest corner of the spare bedroom (which was so full of junk Louis could be housing a family of mice and not know about it); then the black cat really had magically escaped.

Well, it _had_ been the peak witching hour, he supposed. Anything was possible.

Unfortunately, with the storm had also come a power cut. A quick call to the energy board told him that they were aware of the problem and that it would be fixed within the next four hours.

Louis' first lesson wasn’t until eleven o’clock so he’d have time to squeeze in a quick visit to the village to ask if anyone was missing their cat before he headed out to the client who paid him to go into their son’s boarding school to help him brush up on his technique.

The Vanderbilt’s had their hopes set on young Terry becoming a musical prodigy before he turned fifteen whereas Louis went and showed him how to play and asked him if he liked it.

His modest car fared considerably well in the conditions. The roads had water laying in thick puddles at the sides; the new rainfall reducing the visibility enough to have Louis slowing down to accommodate the dangers.

He pulled up outside the newsagents and breathed a sigh of relief at having made it that far without major discourse.

“Morning, Louis!” The attendant at the counter greeted as he stepped into the shop.

Louis paused to scan the noticeboard messages. Nobody appeared to be missing a cat.

“Morning, Velma,” he smiled warmly.

“What can I get you today?” The older lady asked.

Louis picked up the local newspaper and a handful of chocolate bars. For emergencies, of course. _Like having to drive in the aftermath of torrential downpours._

“Just these please, love,” he laid the items on the counter.

“Right I’ll get them rung up,” she said as she dialled the buttons on the old-fashioned till to generate a type-cast receipt. “That’s six pounds fifty eight,” she added.

Louis got his card out to pay by contactless.

“Oh, I forgot to say, the machine’s down,” Velma tutted to herself. “The generator is holding up okay with the lights and the fridge but the internet connection hasn’t come back yet.”

“Same in my house,” Louis said as he unfolded his wallet to slide out a £10 note.

“Three forty-two change,” Velma set the coins into his palm.

“You um...you haven’t had anyone looking for a cat have you?” Louis posed casually.

The whole incident from the previous night was beginning to feel like a fevered dream. He supposed that many people had visits from strange cats and didn’t find anything unusual in it. Maybe it was just the way the moggy had looked at him so soulfully that had Louis feeling so unsettled about it all.

“A cat?” Velma repeated. “Nope. Nobody been in yet. Want me to keep an ear out?”

Louis wavered. If Colin was in fact lost then his family would soon reclaim him. They might have already been reunited for all he knew. But if he really was a stray then Louis didn’t want the village busybodies getting involved.

“Nah, it’s alright, Vel. Thanks for these,” he lifted his paper that he’d rolled into a cone to house his chocolate.

“Cheerio, love!” Velma’s voice chased him outside.

He hesitated for a moment at the helm of the newsagents; his gaze shifting towards the bijou vintage shop sitting adjacent; the front decorated with a calculated mess of autumnal fare.

_'Old Styles' _had been opened just short of a year ago; the business- owner renting out both the shop floor and the flat space above the shop floor.

Louis could remember the day that Harry Styles had moved into town with perfect recollection. It had been an incoming whirlwind of long legs, deep voice and curly hair that Louis had decided quickly right away; he needed to expose himself to on a regular basis.

Harry was funny and sweet and probably the only single guy Louis' age in a ten mile radius so Louis found it pertinent to touch base with him every now and then just to prevent his sanity from slipping down the drain hole in his morning shower.

Harry had sold him a rather unique piano a few months back. They’d both moved the instrument into Louis' cottage and Louis had given Harry an impromptu lesson, using the excuse of needing to tune up the piano to extend Harry’s stay.

There had been what Louis thought was A Moment™️ when they were sat side by side on the piano bench. But the long gaze that featured both of them eyeing each other’s mouths had amounted to—well, nothing, actually.

Harry had cleared his throat and shifted his gaze away along with his body and Louis had missed the way Harry’s leg had been comfortably pressed against his until that moment when it became abundantly clear that Harry didn’t feel the stirring of the unnamed something that Louis _did_.

What caused Louis to twist himself to head over to _Old Styles_ was the large heap of furniture stacked up in front of the shop window beside the meticulously artful pumpkin display. The rain had lessened to a drizzle but the items were still exposed to the onslaught and Louis wondered if Harry might need a hand covering the stack with a tarpaulin. Perhaps someone had just dropped off the lot and left Harry to struggle with it all on his own.

“Fuckers,” Louis muttered under his breath as he pocketed his sweets and folded his paper to use as an umbrella as he dashed across the green.

//

“Harold?” Louis whooshed into the musty shop; short of breath from his jog.

It would do him good to go jogging more often, he mused, grasping the back of a nearby chair to stabilise himself.

“H?” He yelled, a bit louder, towards the back stairs in case Harry had ducked into the stockroom that took up nearly half the ground space available on the bottom floor of the building.

Louis ventured into the maze of articles, drifting automatically towards the jewellery case to see what new items had been displayed there; and which ones had been sold.

Louis always liked the rings; eagerly watching Harry model them if he relented to Louis' demands to unlock the case.

Nothing took his fancy there today so he moved into the racks of clothes; the musty scent much stronger from the aged fabrics. He flicked through the hangers and found a particularly cosy-looking striped mohair cardigan that didn’t look dissimilar to a bee’s stripes.

Louis smirked and tugged it out carefully, clamping it under his arm while he tried to settle the other items back into place.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice was deep and serious enough to have Louis jerking in fear.

“Fucking hell....”

“Louis?”

Harry sounded mildly confused. As he had every right to be, Louis supposed. They were friends but not the kind who made much effort to actually meet up.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Louis smiled wanly, abandoning the muddle of fabric he’d just caused.

“Oh,” Harry’s voice sounded deep and soft. “It’s really very lovely to see you, Lou.”

Louis flinched imperceptibly at the nickname.

“You too, H,” he forced his smile to stay politely on his face. “Been a while...”

“I thought...um...Velma said your sister was staying with you at the cottage for a few weeks and...yeah, I just guessed you’d want to— you know,” he tailed off with a shrug.

Louis flicked his eyes over him. He was wearing beige plaid trousers and a t-shirt tucked into them; his fingers cluttered with heavy rings and his eyes shaded with some cool retro yellow visor shades that wouldn’t look out of place on a seventies porn star. Not that Louis had met many of those, of course. Or _any _porn stars for that matter.

Harry’s eyes flitted to him nervously, his fingers pushing into shorter, curlier hair than Louis had last seen him with.

“You look really well,” Louis murmured, without thinking. Then he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders; the awkward move startling Harry slightly if his jolt was anything to go by.

“You also look remarkably well,” Harry replied, pulling his upper lip into his mouth with his lower teeth.

“Anyway the village snitch was right, my sister Lottie was staying with me for a bit because her asshole of a boyfriend broke things off so I told her to come stay,” Louis explained. “You could have still come by if you needed me,” He added with a swallow.

_Did you need me? Did you **miss** me?_

“I wouldn’t like to intrude,” Harry told him. “But thank you for the offer. Next time I’ll know I can bother you at any hour,” he joked but it fell flat between them.

Louis looked at him worriedly.

“You can always bother me, H,” he murmured very quietly.

Harry nodded, eyes slipping to the furry garment folded underneath Louis’ arms.

“Are you buying it or stealing it?” Harry wondered.

Louis snorted.

“Buying it, of course. You struggling business owners need all the sales you can get...”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed while he walked towards the money tin he used for a till; his proof of purchase slip book sat neatly beside it with a pen.

“What’s all that lot outside, anyway?” Louis laid the cardigan down for Harry to price it up.

“Hm?” He scratched the gap between his smallest fingers with his thumb, worrying the ring nestled on his ring finger.

“The furniture piled up outside the window,” Louis mused. “You know...the stuff blocking out your natural light?”

Harry let out a forced huff of amusement.

“The power went off, normally we don’t need the sunlight,” he commented.

Louis frowned, his eyes drifting behind the old crate that might be classed as a counter. His gaze fell on a collection of large plastic bags brimmed full of what looked like bed linen.

“Harry?”

“Louis?”

He was folding the cardigan more precisely than a staff member at Gap. Louis stared at him.

“It’s nothing,” Harry blurted, clearly reluctant. His throat bobbed and his eyes averted.

Louis waited the five seconds it took for him to break.

“They’re my things,” he managed quietly. “That’s my furniture outside getting a shower and those are my belongings by the door.”

Louis blinked.

“Why are your things out here? Did the roof leak? Isn’t Old MacDonald supposed to fix stuff like that?” Louis posed.

Harry met Louis' gaze.

“The roof is perfectly functional, Lou. You said it yourself. Business owners need all the revenue available...”

Louis' gasp sounded sharper than he intended.

“He’s kicking you out?!” He frowned, affronted.

“Not—not completely,” Harry beseeched him with a panicked gaze. “Just upstairs...just the flat. He’s had tenants interested and he’d let me off the rent for a couple of months but it’s...I have to move out,” he finished, faking a brave smile.

Louis saw right through it, the same way he’d seen right through Harry the first time he’d gone for a pint in The Ship. The bartender, Alyssa, had been coming onto Harry all night and Louis was sure he was the only person to see it because everyone else in the room had gently cajoled Harry to take Alyssa out and Louis had half expected him to do it just to shut the small-minded villagers up.

But then he’d surprised Louis with a flash of confidence, kindly telling Alyssa that he was gay and wouldn’t be asking her out.

Most of the villagers had sat with their mouths flapping open whilst Louis had laughed and toasted Harry silently with his glass of ale.

“That’ll be five pounds,” Harry nudged Louis out of his reverie gently.

“Where are you moving to?” Louis asked, handing over a twenty. “And don’t give me change because we both know the label said seventeen,” Louis added sternly.

Harry hesitated but ultimately took the money and locked it in his tin, scooping the chain the key sat on over his head once he’d finished.

“I’m going to kip on my friend’s sofa,” Harry told him, but something in the way Harry wouldn’t meet his eyes cued him off.

“Which friend?”

“Hm?” Harry had picked up his feather duster to pay close attention to his trombone collection.

“Which mate are you staying with?” Louis asked.

“Matt,” Harry answered, his duster faltering with the lie.

“He lives in London,” Louis countered.

“I’m going to get the train in...”

Louis snorted.

“That’ll cost you more than the rent, love.”

Harry froze, arm mid-rise in a dusting motion. The fabric of his t-shirt tightened across his shoulders attractively; Louis' gaze automatically dipping to his behind that was cupped perfectly in the fitted fabric of his trousers.

Everything about Harry sagged, then.

Louis regretted his flippancy.

“H?” He softened his voice, sighing out. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”

A shake of Harry’s head unsettled his curls in a way that Louis might usually find beguiling. His tummy flipped but the pleasant feeling died in his stomach.

He breathed in and out a few times, eyes glued to the back of Harry’s head. He still hadn’t turned around.

“Right. Well,” he drew in a steadying breath. “We best get a van hired so that we can get all your stuff out of the rain before it gets ruined,” Louis began, quiet but sure.

Harry shifted for the first time, spinning to face Louis. He opened his mouth.

“This isn’t a discussion,” Louis cut him off, voice still gentle enough not to sound overbearing. “I’m not asking because I know you’ll try and say no.” Louis met Harry’s gaze with a challenging brow arch.

“Louis...”

“What this is, is me telling you that you’re staying with me and you not getting the chance to decline out of pride and then sleeping in the gutter every night,” Louis added ruefully. He flicked his eyes to Harry. “Please tell me you haven’t been sleeping in the gutter?”

Harry shook his head.

“Good,” Louis chirped, slapping his paper against his thigh and then checking his watch. “I’ll be back around two with a van and I’ll see you then. Oh and...” Louis dipped into his pocket and pulled out two of his chocolate bars. “Velma always gives me extra, so you know...you might as well have these.”

Harry checked the wrappers and smiled a little to himself.

“Thank you, Louis.”

“See you later,” Louis waved and turned to leave; a shaky breath leaving his lungs as he finally stepped outside.

For a hot minute there he had thought Harry was going to deny his offer of a room. Louis wasn’t sure exactly what had caused Harry _not_ to argue but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. No. He was going to desperately call every van hire company he could get hold of before his lesson started.

//

Harry’s furniture had to go in the garage. Louis had helped him heft in his boxes and bags and had left him to arrange his room however he pleased.

Harry had ventured out when Louis had called him for dinner, the taller man looking cosy in a red jumper and some flared jeans.

“Um.”

“You can sit down,” Louis mused of his awkward standing position.

“I can cook,” Harry said by way of response.

Louis chewed his triangle of toast.

“What are you saying? That beans and scrambled eggs on toast just don’t cut it?” Louis teased.

Harry loaded his own squared toast with beans and messily ate it from his fingers.

“I just mean to help out,” Harry explained. “A contribution until I can pay you rent.”

“I don’t need rent,” Louis assured.

“I’ve got a night job,” Harry told him.

Louis shovelled eggs into his mouth.

“Oh?” He asked, through chewing.

“I’ll try not to disturb you when I come in and out.”

“I sleep heavy,” Louis promised.

Harry’s silence caused him to look up, the other man’s gaze quickly flitting away.

“I’ll be quiet anyway,” Harry promised.

“Just make yourself at home, H,” Louis encouraged. “You can stay as long as you need.”

Harry passed Louis his last square of toast, since Louis had a small pool of beans left and nothing to mop up the sauce.

Harry smiled and Louis smiled back and some of the warmth that used to stretch between them felt like it was weaving a new path.

//

It wasn’t raining but the cat was back.

Louis had only opened the door to put the bins out before he went to bed and by the time he’d rushed back into the warm inside of the cottage; a certain beautiful black creature had stretched out on his favourite seat.

“You!”

_Meow_.

The feline stretched out longer, spreading his toes.

“You can’t come waltzing in like that anymore,” he scolded.

_Meow._

“We have a guest. He’s called Harry,” Louis frowned thoughtfully.

That made the cat sit up.

_Meow._

“Yep, you’ve got competition, buddy. I hate to say it but he’s a bit prettier than you, too...”

Louis smirked to himself as the kitty stared at him.

“He _talks_,” Louis accused. “All I get from you is _meows_.”

_Meow._

“I know you’re a cat, but—” Louis paused. “Fuck, I’m really having a conversation with an animal,” he mused.

The cat swished his tail; lolled on his side.

“I’m going to bed, moggy,” Louis announced, moving toward the stairs. He’d already left a saucer of dry kibble on the hearth in case the elusive beast snuck in when he wasn’t home. Since he’d apparently mastered the art of walking through walls, Louis wouldn’t be surprised if that happened.

He got to the bottom of the stairs when the cat suddenly flipped up and jogged over; shooting up the stairs past Louis' ankles.

“Hey, that’s dangerous!” Louis shouted. “You’re not sleeping in my room, okay?”

_Meow._

Louis rolled his eyes and he trudged up the steps to find Colin patiently flicking his tail outside his door.

“No.”

_Meow._

“No!”

_Meow._

“There’s a perfectly good sofa _and _food downstairs.” Louis complained as he went to open his room door in the hope that the cat was just curious and would leave once he’d seen inside. “There’s nothing exciting in here, see?” Louis wandered into the connecting bathroom to brush his teeth.

Things were unusually quiet in the next room so he assumed Colin had gone back to his food after all. He didn’t expect to walk out of his bathroom in his boxers to the sight of the cat dragging his brand new mohair cardigan out of the paper bag.

“No!” Louis yelped, darting forward to grab him.

The cardigan had thankfully not gotten caught on naughty feline claws. The garment sagged in a heap on the carpet while Louis came to the slow realisation that Colin was in his arms. And not scratching his eyes out to break free.

He shifted him more comfortably in a cradle against his chest.

“So you’re not completely wild then,” he murmured as the cat grew heavy in his arms, evidently relaxing.

_Meow._

Louis began to stroke him.

“You’re so dark. Not even your nose is pink, or your mouth. Are your feet okay?”

Colin purred.

“If you say so,” Louis joked. “Is it the bag you want?” he wondered. “Something to play with?”

Colin twisted his body in his arms; lengthening himself out.

“You’re needy,” Louis realised.

_Meow._

“Yeah, thanks for confirming that,” Louis tutted. “I have to put you down so I can rescue the cardigan you almost destroyed,” he narrated, laying Colin on his bed.

He was setting a precedence he would surely regret but actually he liked having something soft and playful around the house. It did get lonely on his own and having Colin as a housemate would be a temporary fix but maybe adopting the cat _was_ something to consider.

Once he had his hands free he collected the stripey knit and shook it off gently, careful not to stretch it out of shape.

Something heavy tumbled out of the twisted garment and rolled underneath his bed. Colin was too busy kneading Louis' bedcover with his claws to notice.

“I’ll get that when it’s light,” he decided, folding the cardigan and slipping across the hall to place it on the bottom corner of Harry’s bed.

He knew the moment he’d seen it that it was perfect for Harry. He hoped that when Harry got in at whatever hour he finished work, he’d see the warm jumper and smile. Louis didn’t know how bad things had gotten for his fellow villager but now that he knew some of it, he’d definitely step in to help Harry keep his business afloat.

“Right, tigger,” Louis walked back into his room and shut the door; Colin now fast asleep in his heart-warming little circle in the centre of Louis' laundry basket. “Weird, but whatever,” he muttered, climbing into bed.

//

Harry was wearing the cardigan the next morning when Louis came downstairs for breakfast and found him neatly settled at the dining table with a creased t-shirt underneath the woolen garment.

“Hi,” Louis threw him a perplexed look. “Didn’t think you’d be up for a while yet. How did the new job go?”

Harry nodded and sipped his tea.

“It went really well.”

“What is it you’re doing?”

“Um.” Harry shuffled his white sneakered feet. “It’s basically phone sales. They open all night. I process card payments.”

Louis trudged over with his tea.

“H, you’re not doing phone sex work are you? Because—”

“No!” Harry cast, quick and sharp. “I mean I would do anything that earned money but it’s just one of those online jewellery things...”

_Jewellery_. Fuck, Louis still had to scrabble under his bed for whatever fell out of the cardigan.

“Thank you for the cardigan, by the way.”

Louis focused on soft green eyes and an even softer, shy smile.

“You couldn’t sell that to anyone else, it was made for you,” Louis argued.

Harry smirked, dipping his rosy cheeks.

“I should probably return your money.”

“Why?” Louis mused. “Because you’re my housemate now? It doesn’t matter, love. Honestly I make good money with my lessons so...” He shrugged.

“I bought the cardigan for nine hundred pounds,” Harry swallowed. “A month ago, after I sold a really rare piece. It was a gift to myself, really. I’ve been working dawn ‘til dusk. And I knew I’d never get that for it so I put it in with the jumble,” Harry admitted.

“You asked for _seventeen_ _pounds_,” Louis gaped.

“When the bills came due I had to sell everything for whatever I could get for it.”

“What happened, then?” Louis frowned. “You had a flush and then...?”

“And then I bought in some pieces that weren’t authentic. I invested the money into more stock but the seller was a rogue and I lost my investment. The police are still investigating but it’s unlikely I’ll recoup my losses.”

Louis' fingertips stroked the curve of his cup as he stared at the man he had once been inspired to _kiss. _And if Harry had wanted to kiss him back; Louis could only imagine what it might be like to be Harry’s boyfriend, to hold his hand and take him on dates and look after him; properly.

It still hurt; that rejection. The solid knowledge that someone as beautiful as Harry would never be interested in more than—what exactly were they? Friends?

“You should have told me,” is what he murmured, quietly regretful that Harry hadn’t felt like he could share his burden.

“There was nothing anyone could do,” Harry defended; frowning.

“Where were you planning on sleeping?” Louis asked.

“At the shop,” Harry mumbled.

“See? There _was _something I could do.”

“I better get the shop open,” Harry avoided the topic artfully. “I might have a sudden rush of customers...”

“Oh, by the way,” Louis swigged the last of his tea. “There’s a cat here sometimes, goes by the name of Colin. You can keep your bedroom door shut if you’re not keen on animals.”

“No I...I love cats,” Harry stuttered to assure him. “Um. You called him Colin?” He added, eyes soft.

Louis opened his mouth. _Shit. _He’d forgotten about that. About the stupid way he’d named the cat after something that reminded him of _Harry_.

“Yeah, seemed fitting,” he cleared his throat. “Better let you get off to your queue at the shop,” Louis winked, heading to get ready for his day.

//

“When did you get here?” Louis stopped dead as he left the kitchen to relax on the sofa with his evening tea and biscuits.

The cat was waiting for him with those huge, moon-like eyes.

_Meow._

“Did Harry let you in when he left?” Louis squinted suspiciously.

_Meow._

“I figured as much,” Louis carried on walking and plopped down beside his new pet.

Colin walked to his lap and rubbed his head on Louis’ forearm as he lifted his cup to dunk his custard creams.

“Don’t think flattery will get you posh food, moggy,” Louis warned.

Colin trod over his thighs in dizzying circles until he decided to settle; Louis leaning back and setting one hand amongst his black shiny fur to stroke the stray.

“So, why don’t you just live here?” Louis asked.

_Meow._

“Well, you don’t though, do you? You disappear and then you come back and I feel a bit cheated on if I’m honest...”

Colin purred on cue.

“I see. Emotional blackmail.”

_Meow._

“Do we need a cat flap? I don’t know how you manage it but if you’re staying then you better have your own key...”

Colin turned onto his back and pressed his paws against Louis’ arm.

“Alright, love, this is now officially your home,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Welcome to the Tomlinson household. There’s rules here, you know...”

The cat continued to play with the cuff of his sleeve.

“No peeing on the carpets or furniture. No scratching of _any_ kind to our guests. No coming in past midnight with dead mice...”

Louis smiled fondly at the creature and teased him with his sleeve.

“I’ll get you some proper toys now that it’s official.”

_Meow._

“Thought you might like that. And some tinned food?”

(Louis would later work out that Colin didn’t like canned cat food and would only eat the packets of cooked meats and fish that cost a fortune.)

“Right, bed time for me,” Louis stretched, waiting to see if the cat would follow him up the stairs again.

He did. But this time he barged his way into _Harry’s_ room through the slitted door.

“Hey! Get out of there!” Louis hissed, not wanting to turn the light on because he felt it infringed Harry’s privacy.

When the cat let out a strangled meow; Louis flipped the switch.

“What the—”

Louis paused, tongue lodged in the back of his throat at the way Harry had arranged his room with the bed facing the window view of the garden and a mesh mezzanine propped at the head of it with silk-covered cushions scattered among his pillows. A crocheted blanket in lilac was draped over the pastel blue bed linen Louis had used. He could see matching cream crochet mats on the dresser and drawer surfaces which were also scattered with a vast array of ornaments; most of which he could now see were _cats_.

Speaking of which; Colin shot past his feet from underneath the bed dragging the striped cardigan along in his mouth; something that Louis tutted at while he quickly turned the light off and pulled Harry’s door back up.

“Harry won’t be happy that you’ve taken his new cardigan you know!” He called as he headed into his own room.

Colin was making a nest in the mohair garment and Louis rolled his eyes with a reluctant sigh.

“Fine. I’ll pay for it to be dry cleaned, shall I?” Louis muttered.

He took advantage of the moment to rummage under his bed for the lost jewellery. He pulled out a heavy gold cat-shaped ring that was inset with emerald eyes and diamond stripes up the forehead; the features carved out of the metal.

“Oh,” he sat back on his haunches, Colin now snoozing in his cozy bed.

The ring had to belong to Harry, _surely_? It was in _his _cardigan pocket and it matched his ornaments...and Harry could probably pawn it for a fair amount.

Something twisted in Louis' belly.

He didn’t want Harry to pawn the ring. Harry had probably assumed it missing among his hasty house-move and if Louis gave it back then he knew Harry would feel obligated to sell it to pay him rent.

Louis went to his cupboard and emptied his wash bag; sliding the ring inside. He’d give it back to Harry once he was back on his feet, he decided with a satisfied smile.

He nuzzled up to the makeshift cat-bed and let sleep overtake him.

//

“Hi!”

Harry’s beaming smile greeted Louis from the stove; his surprisingly thick thighs barely covered in a pair of running shorts and his broad shoulders sporting another creased, baggy t-shirt.

“How do you manage to look so...” Louis searched for the right word as Harry’s twinkling eyes met his.

“So what?” He prompted with a quirk of his brows.

“Perky,” Louis selected. “Considering the lack of sleep you’re getting, you should look like a zombie.”

“I don’t look like a zombie?” Harry enquired, skilfully flipping a pancake. “By the way, I'm making breakfast.”

Louis rubbed his non-existent belly.

“Pretty sure that’ll go straight to my waist.”

Harry twisted to flick a quick look over him.

“You look smart today.” He observed.

“What do you mean?” Louis scoffed. “I’m always smart.”

“You usually wear jeans and a jumper,” Harry argued gently.

Harry was right. Louis had dressed in trousers and a shirt for a reason.

“Meeting a new client. I find it makes a good first impression. Once I’ve pulled the wool over their eyes, I can go back to being a slob.”

“Well, I happen to like your cosy clothes,” Harry stated.

“Really?” Louis shot him a bemused look.

“Um.” He fiddled with the pancake unnecessarily.

“That’s what I thought,” Louis muttered under his breath as he sat at the table after making tea for them both.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Harry shuffled over in a pair of ugly pink socks and served two pancakes to Louis.

“Thank you, Harold,” Louis reached for the honey to drizzle over his food and scooped some of the chopped banana from the bowl in the centre of the table.

“I’ve got a delivery of books coming today,” Harry shared as he too sat down with his food.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s a private collection and the owner passed away recently. Books are really popular at the moment so I’m hoping to take a good profit.”

Louis pursed his lips; waiting for Harry to notice him staring. His beautiful green eyes darted around the table and finally lifted.

“What?” Harry mumbled, brows creasing.

“You sure you’re going to let people _buy_ them? You _love _books.”

Harry’s lips twitched into a familiar fond smile that Louis had missed more than he’d like to admit. Creases appeared in the corners of Harry’s eyes as his smile grew toothy.

“On this occasion I’m prepared to release them out into the world,” he promised.

“Uh huh,” Louis nodded, his eyes dipping to Harry’s mouth as Harry licked some honey away from the corner of his lips.

“I’m learning that sacrificing the things I love is easier than I thought,” he commented; brows furrowed and eyes fixed on his plate.

_He was lying._

Louis knew the signs by now. Usually, _before _their rift, it might have been when Harry was making an excuse for the umpteenth time about why he couldn’t attend one evening invitation or another. Or when he was telling Louis how much he enjoyed something that it was evident he _didn’t _enjoy.

Like baking 300 cupcakes for the local school fete.

Louis loved Harry for wanting to help and he might actually love him more for being stubbornly obtuse about not _complaining _about offering to help when it got too much.

“What else have you lost, Harry?” Louis looked at him worriedly; fingers twitching in the instinct to reach for his hand to grasp it.

Again he had an overwhelming rush of regret. The difficult emotions that had driven a wedge between them and fractured their friendship felt long forgotten now as Louis ached to take away just some of the pain Harry appeared to be in.

That pain shot hard and sharp into his chest when Harry met his gaze. For one second staring into his wide green eyes was just like staring into Colin’s. Louis felt trapped there; amongst a soul too big for the body it travelled in.

Harry’s lashes swooped down before he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he promised in a raspy, low voice that sounded as broken as his heart.

“It matters to me,” Louis whispered.

His nostrils flared and his lips twisted into a bitter smirk.

“You wouldn’t believe—never mind,” Harry sucked in a breath and visibly jolted himself. “It is what it is.”

Louis felt the weight of those words on his chest where they were tattooed.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Louis tried again to reassure Harry; to coax him into opening up.

Harry shifted; clearing up his breakfast things and carrying them to the sink to rinse.

“I really must go,” he said; voice quiet and shoulders hunched.

“Yeah, of course,” Louis agreed lightly; finishing his food slowly.

“See you later, Louis,” Harry forced a smile and gave a sweet salute before he left the kitchen.

//

“Velma gave me double again,” Louis greeted as he navigated the twisty aisles in _Old Styles_ to reach the crate that Harry constituted as a desk.

“What?” Harry turned from the back room; rather dust-coated; arms full of books as he coughed loudly.

“Hey,” Louis frowned; dropping his cupcake holder on the crate to rush forth to take the weight from Harry’s arms. “Here, I’ll take these…”

“Would you?” Harry sucked in a wheezy-sounding breath. “I didn’t know they would be so dusty…”

“Have you got your inhaler?” Louis checked over his shoulder as he squeezed into the book corner Harry had set up; kneeling to place the books down gently and then picking one up to clean it with his sleeve.

“There’s a towel,” Harry told him quickly; coughing up his lungs into his own sleeve.

Louis picked up the towel and began to wipe them off.

“You should take that sweater off;” Louis suggested. “You’re caked in it.”

Harry sucked his inhaler a few times and twisted to peel off his khaki sweater.

The fabric rose a little; baring the skin above his jeans waistband; giving Louis a vital flash of his pudgy hips and a dark inking right in his lower back.

“Is that a cat?” He wondered.

Harry took great care in sliding his top off; turning to Louis with an innocent expression.

“Hmm?”

“On your lower back,” Louis pointed to his own to show where he meant.

“Oh,” Harry swallowed; straightening out his white vest; the muscles in his arms flexing gently with the movement. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

Louis nodded; watching him between his book- cleaning. He wanted to say how nice it looked; all regal with its long, curled tail and seductive green eyes but he knew it would just come out wrong and he felt like he was just getting some of his rapport back with Harry. He didn’t want to go and ruin it just because of a tattoo. A tattoo that made his tummy tighten, maybe, but a tattoo all the same.

“The guys must like that,” Louis forced the words out of his throat; carefully arranging the titles in alphabetical order on the book shelf.

Harry stacked up another ream and wandered over.

“What guys?” He asked.

“The ones you um…who see it,” Louis stammered; all too aware of Harry lowering to his knees beside him and reaching for the towel.

He felt Harry’s eyes on the side of his face and refused to give into the urge to look back.

“Not been as many guys as you think, Lou,” Harry passed him a book from his stack.

Louis twisted to look at him and swallowed.

“I’m not calling you a whore,” he aimed for humour and pitched completely wrong; wincing. “It’s really not my business.”

Harry’s fingers brushed his as he passed him the next book; watching Louis intently as he placed it in the cupboard.

“I’m kind of cursed when it comes to love,” Harry told him conversationally; settling into a cross-legged position that drew the denim of his jeans tightly over his thighs.

The combination of his bare arms and tight trousers was almost too much for Louis to keep focus; but the vulnerable expression on Harry’s face kept him in check.

“You and me both,” Louis snorted.

“Do you believe in magic?” Harry posed; biting his lower lip and lifting up a Spell Book from the assortment.

Louis smirked; reaching for the book and shifting onto the side of his thigh; his knee now brushing Harry’s as he flipped through the pages.

“You want me to find you a love-spell?” Louis asked. “Pretty sure my mum was half-Wiccan so I might’ve inherited some of her powers…”

Harry honked out some laughter; knees flapping with amusement.

“You did not.”

Louis lifted his brows; sensing Harry’s willingness to humour him.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m a _full_ Wiccan and I can-“ Harry froze, mouth open as he realised his revelation. He closed his mouth. “…tell,” he mumbled; avoiding Louis’ gaze as he unfolded his legs. “What cakes did you bring anyway?”

Louis watched his peachy behind for a moment before answering.

“Martha gave me the Halloween specials- one’s orange and one’s green, not sure what flavour they are…”

“Green one is mint;” Harry offered through a gobful of cake; dutifully bringing Louis the orange one. “I haven’t eaten it all; we can do half each?” He suggested.

Louis eyed the mangled cupcake in the wrapper Harry cradled it in.

“You know what? I’m fine with orange,” he voted.

Harry smiled but it was fat-cheeked as he chewed.

Louis waited until he was rooting around out back for more books before yelling out;

“So, you really know about witchy stuff?”

The rifling stopped; a dustier-than-ever Harry appearing with his slow but sexy swagger; Louis’ gaze unable to unfix itself from the front of his jeans.

Harry plopped himself down and tipped the books into Louis’ lap; spines first.

“Ouch,” Louis shot him a glare. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Never,” Harry smiled innocently as he trudged back for more.

“Come here;” Louis waved him over when Harry brought the last of the current box load onto the shop floor.

“What?” Harry dimpled; green eyes alight with joy as he knelt over Louis; deliberately looming.

“Down,” Louis tugged on his vest, stroking his fingers through Harry’s wild curls gently to remove the cobwebs and the worst of the tufts of dust.

Harry stilled; settling back on his heels and biting his lip as he watched Louis’ face while he worked.

“There,” Louis wiped his fingers on his own thighs; Harry still looking at him a certain way; leaning over him a certain way. “Um?”

“Oh,” Harry blinked; eyes apparently drawn to Louis’ mouth. “Um.”

He didn’t move. Louis frowned up at him; wondering what was occurring; wondering whether the spell book had accidentally rendered Harry immobile in that moment while they just looked into each other’s souls. The moment wasn’t unique, Louis had experienced it before and it had been the sole; most painful moment of his life. Because Harry had turned away and had left so fast that Louis had wondered what Harry might have seen deep inside his heart.

Louis wasn’t a bad person; he had made mistakes but he had fixed them, too. Or tried to. What was so dark about his heart that Harry couldn’t bare to look at it anymore? Was that his curse? Was it a Wiccan gift; to see the parts of a person that they themselves couldn’t see? _Fuck_. He saw fear in Harry’s eyes; he saw secrets. He wanted to see love; _his_ love; mirrored back at him from the man he had never really gotten over.

The sharp jangling of the shop bell had the both of them startled; Harry jerking back and Louis grasping his elbow to steady him from falling. Harry carefully untangled his limbs and rose to greet the customer.

“Morning!” He popped up; voice pitched a little higher than normal.

Louis studiously went back to his books; listening covertly from his hidden spot.

“Good Morning. I’m looking for a specific item,” the customer explained.

“Okay,” Harry beamed; walking over to the clothing section to slip a cardigan off a hangar which he quickly shrugged into. “I’ve got a book of all of my stock so if we can’t find it right away then I can see if I have it out back…”

“Marvellous,” the male voice cheered. He sounded older; perhaps in his sixties, Louis considered.

“What is it you’re looking for?” Harry asked him.

“It’s a ring.” The man shared in a hushed tone that wasn’t required for an empty shop. Louis rolled his eyes.

“A ring,” Harry repeated; Louis biting his knuckles in trying not to snort in laughter.

“A gold ring,” the man explained. “One with a face of a cat upon it…with emerald eyes and diamonds in stripes.”

Louis froze; the hairs on his arms prickling. _That_ ring?

His instincts screamed at him to get up; to offer Harry some moral support but his curiosity got the better of him. If the ring really did belong to Harry; then now would be the time to hear about it.

“Sounds decadent,” Harry offered with a light chuckle (forced- if Louis still knew him well enough).

“Oh it is,” the man assured.

“Were many copies made?” Harry enquired as he walked towards the jewellery cabinet on the far side of the shop. Louis twisted around carefully to turn towards their voices.

“It’s rather unique,” the man shared. “As far as I’m aware only one is left in existence.”

_Yeah, and it was in Louis’ sock drawer._

“Must be special,” Harry lifted out the ring rack even though both he and Louis knew the ring wasn’t presented among the jewelled bands.

“It’s related to a particular spell,” the man went on. “Not that I usually believe in that silly business. But a niece of mine apparently requires it.”

Louis carefully; quietly lifted himself to his knees; peering through the junk to survey the two men in conversation. Harry’s face had that careful mask painted upon it- professionally curious; Louis called it.

“Oh, it doesn’t look like I have that design I’m afraid.”

“You would know it in an instant,” The man assured. “It’s very stunning.”

“Mmm, sounds it,” Harry nodded along, smiling froggishly at the customer.

“I’ll leave you my card,” the man stated.

“Of course,” Harry agreed.

“Should it come into your possession,” the man pressed the card into Harry’s palm. “I’d be willing to pay whatever it takes.”

Harry blinked at him; pursing his lips.

“I’ll call you if it turns up here,” he promised.

Louis felt confusion wash over him as he let out a breath; the jangle of the bell signalling the exit of the customer.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice made him jump; his evident spying position unearthed.

“Spying,” he admitted.

“I can see that,” Harry mused.

“Wait,” Louis got up, grimacing as pins and needles started in his foot.

“It’s nearly lunchtime and I’m already behind,” Harry turned to fetch more books.

“How would a ring be involved in a spell?” Louis asked as he trailed Harry towards the back of the shop.

He caught his nonchalant shrug before he disappeared behind the door separating the shop floor from the stock room.

“All sorts of ways.”

“Give me an example,” Louis insisted.

The guy who had just been in knew the _exact_ ring that had fallen from Harry’s cardigan pocket and he didn’t think that was a coincidence.

“Well, let’s say that the spell-caster puts the ring on the subject to empower the incantation. The subject can take the ring off but the spell has already bonded. But to undo the spell; the ring would be required to reverse it. Without the ring, the subject would be cursed forever.”

Louis felt a rush of realisation hit him; hard and fast. _Harry had said he felt cursed in love_. He had also lost his ring. He didn’t know that Louis had it. He didn’t know that his curse could still be reversed. But how? Surely if the spell was so easy to reverse then Harry would have done it by now; when he had the ring in his possession? And just because his love curse could be removed potentially; didn’t mean that Louis had any greater chance of willing Harry to fall in love with _him_.

What the fuck did any of it mean?!

“Right,” he managed to answer with a cool, disinterested voice. “Guess I better let you get on, then?”

Harry rolled his eyes; settling on his knees in the corner.

“Thanks for the cupcake,” Harry remembered to say.

“I’ll leave the orange one for later when you need a sugar boost,” Louis smiled.

“Bye, Lou,” Harry waved him off with a bemused smile and Louis prayed that he wasn’t suspicious.

//

Louis locked the ring in his safe when he got home; uneasy about the gentleman visitor at the shop. He didn’t know much about witchcraft or spells but if the man was suffering the same love-curse that Harry was then it appeared the ring was instrumental in reversing it; however that might happen.

Finding out the truth was going to take some time, though. Harry was reluctant to share the details and Louis wasn’t prepared to push him to open up about it so for now, as long as the ring was safe; Louis was happy to carry on as though nothing had happened.

Assuming Harry had already left for his night-job, Louis headed down to the kitchen to scrabble together some dinner after a long, warm shower; his joggers pulled on for modesty and a towel in his hand to dry off his damp hair.

It was just as he was gliding into the kitchen that he realised Harry _hadn’t_ in fact left for the night. A two-pinter of milk was upturned where Harry was glugging it shamelessly.

“Thirsty?” Louis tilted his head to ask.

Harry’s gaze dipped to Louis' chest. Two small crescents of milk formed a smile on his upper lip; licked away while Harry tried to catch his breath, it seemed.

“Yeah.”

“Good job I’m not particular about double-dipping,” Louis joked.

Harry’s eyes lifted from his tummy to his eyes; darker and more intense.

“Dipping?” He repeated in a soft; deep voice.

“Double dipping,” Louis corrected; slightly unnerved by the predatory stare Harry was giving him. “You know where you put your chip in the sauce, eat half and then dip it back in?”

Harry didn’t seem to know the expression by the blank look he gave Louis.

“Double dipping,” he murmured; chewing his lower lip gently.

“Yeah; it’s a phrase for putting your germs in the food,” Louis persisted. “The same way you just did with the milk…”

“Oh,” he swallowed, licking his lips once more; eyes somewhere around Louis’ breast-bone. “Oh!” He snapped-to; eyes widening as a light flush hit his cheeks. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lou. I never usually—I don’t know what’s wrong with me today…”

“Full moon,” Louis stated confidently.

Harry froze where he was returning the milk to the fridge.

“What?”

“I’ve got an app on my phone,” Louis smiled. “Always sends people a bit funny.”

“Of course.”

“You should know that,” Louis came over to poke him in the ribs. “Being witchy and all…”

“I…should,” he smiled wanly; edging around to follow Louis’ progress in the kitchen.

“Want me to save you some dinner?” Louis checked.

“I can get a sandwich when I get in,” Harry assured.

“Harold, you need to eat more than a sandwich,” Louis tutted.

“Okay,” he acquiesced softly. “If you don’t mind then that would be lovely.”

Louis paused; having reached into the cupboard for a tin of beans.

“Are you sure you feel okay, H?”

“Hm?” Harry’s glazed eyes lifted from the small of his back. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, Lou, really. I guess it’s just getting to me now, huh? The two jobs and no sleep…”

Louis pursed his lips, coming back closer to the fridge where Harry was leaned into its door. He looked a bit panicked at Louis’ approach and stood straight.

“You know that you don’t have to go to your second job, right? There’s no obligation to feel pressured about money, okay? You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry breathed it out; quietly.

“I’m making a sausage casserole,” Louis decided, turning back to his can of beans. “Don’t work too hard,” he added as Harry moved to leave.

//

Less than ten minutes after Harry left, Colin appeared.

“Oh, you found the cat-flap did you?” Louis asked as the black feline jumped up onto the sofa without invitation.

_Meow._

“You hungry?” Louis asked as he watched Colin lean his paws onto the coffee-table to sniff at his leftovers. “Wait, I’ll get you some fresh,” Louis told him, securing the cat under his arm to carry him into the kitchen; making himself a tea to take back to the sofa.

Once he was settled; Colin curled up; right over the swell of his dick, he noted.

“Comfy, love?”

_Meow_.

“Yeah, you look it,” Louis snorted; turning the television on to catch up on Emmerdale.

//

The gentle buzzing of Louis’ phone roused him.

He reached out instinctively as he always did when the silent alarm started every morning; muting it for another five minutes while he accustomed to the idea of being _awake._

Disorientated; because he evidently _wasn’t_ laying down as he expected; he cracked one eye open to place himself. And _oh yeah_. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa. And fuck, his neck hurt.

With a hiss; he cupped the back of his neck and lifted his head up off the back of the sofa; blinking confusedly at the scene.

A man was in his lap. _Over_ his lap, to be precise. And he was naked.

And unless Louis had completely lost his marbles; that man was _Harry_.

_Butt naked_\- literally because that part of Harry’s body was staring him in the face; the pretty cat tattoo placed just above his beautifully pert behind.

“Fuck.”

What had happened? Had he crawled in, in the early hours? Maybe he crashed on the sofa a lot but Louis wasn’t usually there to—to—_host_ him.

_Oh God._

He was beautiful, too. Pale skin; sparse body hair; dark curls.

He couldn’t be comfortable face-planted along the sofa that way but Louis didn’t have the courage to wake him. Alright, he didn’t have the _will_. Broad shoulders; slim waist; long legs and a perfect behind weren’t _much_ of a motivation to remove Harry from his lap. It felt almost…domestic.

As though Harry had come in a little drunk and found the comfiest place to sleep which just happened to be wherever _Louis_ was. _Fuck_. There went his heart; breaking all over again.

Then his conscience kicked in. _Harry was naked. _And he likely didn’t intend to be quite so _bare _so it was only fair to cover him up.

Louis was just looking for any discarded clothing that might be draped close by when Harry stirred in his lap.

“Aha!” Louis twisted and stretched to swipe the furry striped cardigan off the chair where he’d left if after bringing it home from the dry-cleaners.

“What—what’s going on?” Harry pushed himself up with his arms, precariously twisting to look at Louis.

“Easy, love,” Louis tucked the cardigan over his midriff in the hope he’d shield Harry’s modesty.

“Why am I naked?” Harry frowned, clutching the cardigan as he shunted his body to sit up awkwardly.

“I was kind of wondering that myself,” Louis mused.

Harry’s eyes flicked over his own long body as he crawled inelegantly into a sitting position.

His cheeks burned in belated embarrassment.

“Holy fuck.”

“It’s fine,” Louis managed a smirk. “Seen a few naked boys in my time.”

“This is_ mortifying,_” he whispered, darting his eyes away.

“H, honestly don’t worry about it,” Louis frowned as Harry inched off the sofa; tying the arms of the cardigan behind his back. “We’ve all had too many beers and got a bit more naked than we’d like.”

“I wasn’t _drunk_,” Harry span to gasp; clearly overwhelmed.

Louis had just been sneaking one last glance at his bare bum before he started to get up to reassure him.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re tired, yeah?”

Harry shook his head, nostrils flaring, eyes glistening with unshed tears as he pushed his thick hair away from his face.

“I didn’t mean to do this...I wasn’t meant to be here.”

Louis moved toward him, Harry flinching before he got close and backing away.

“Don’t look!” He begged as he twisted to dash towards the stairs.

Too late, Louis had caught another glimpse of his naked back; dipping his chin to show Harry he respected his wishes.

“It’s really not a big deal!” Louis called anyway, wincing at the sharp slam of Harry’s bedroom door.

He sighed, frowning slightly as he distractedly wondered where Colin had gone after Harry had come home.

He slowly headed up the stairs to shower for work.

//

“We should do something,” Louis deposited a hot coffee on the crate; Harry curled up in the corner on a small armchair; where the thick green velvet curtain that covered the stockroom door seemed to comfort him.

He looked up from the book he was reading and quickly shifted his eyes away.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he murmured, peering at his drink.

“Do what?”

“Try and make me feel better,” Harry rolled his eyes.

Louis snorted.

“Good job I’m not then.”

“Then what _are _you doing?” He picked up his drink to peel the lid off to cool it down quicker.

“Asking you out,” Louis told him boldly.

Harry froze.

“I can’t go out with you.” He whispered.

“At night,” Louis remembered. “Pretty sure you can do lunch on a slow day, though.”

“I’m not dating right now,” Harry’s brows furrowed. “Maybe ever,” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s not a date,” Louis promised. “Just a roomies thing, yeah?”

Harry blinked at him, sullenly poking out his bottom lip.

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to recover from the trauma of being stark naked in your lap, to be honest.”

“You didn’t have to bring it up again,” Louis smiled. “I’m pretending it didn’t happen...”

“Yeah? Pretending that my arse wasn’t dazzling you in the face and that you didn’t get a glimpse of my family jewels before you gallantly covered me with your designer cardigan?” Harry enquired drily.

“_Your_ designer cardigan,” Louis corrected smugly. “And your jewels are safe,” he promised, earning a soft smile from Harry. “Your arse, not so much...”

Harry cracked out a laugh.

“You’re not going to go away until I agree to lunch, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine, meet you tomorrow at one?”

Louis beamed.

//

“We should talk about what happened,” Harry tore off a chunk of boule bread and began to thinly butter it.

Louis watched him with a mildly disgusted look.

“I mean that looks pretty dry, Harold,” He observed.

“Just because you like a bit of bread with your butter doesn’t mean we’re _all_ butter freaks...”

Louis sniffed and slathered his own chunk of bread.

“I didn’t think you wanted to discuss _The Incident_,” Louis admitted of Harry’s expression for wanting to talk.

Harry chewed slowly; watching him with careful eyes.

“There’s things you should probably know,” Harry’s eyes dipped, pain filled.

Louis took a deep breath to conjure some courage.

“Was it really that traumatic?” He asked, voice gentle.

Harry couldn’t help his smile or the sweet ache it gave him to hear Louis' concern.

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking,” He mused.

“Tell me about it,” Louis encouraged.

“I--I’m self conscious you know? I’m... there’s—I’m _different_,” he struggled to convey.

“There’s nothing wrong with having four nipples, Harry,” Louis assured; Harry staring at him helplessly while their lunch was delivered.

Harry was trying the crab pasta while Louis had his usual lasagna.

“You’ve actually got a great body-if that’s not weird of me to say,” Louis spoke with his mouth full while Harry nibbled his dish. “It _is_ weird, isn’t it? Sorry. Fuck. I just—we're friends now, right? Friends should be able to tell each other that-“

Harry looked up from his food, Louis sat frozen, fork mid-lift to his mouth. He blinked, regret flooding him.

“No, I guess that’s really _not _what friends say to each other,” he murmured; taking the bite of his food after all.

“Lou...”

“No, it’s okay, love,” Louis' lips twisted into a painful smile. “You’ve made it very clear where we stand and I never want you to feel uncomfortable. You’re an attractive man, Harry. A _very_ attractive man,” he huffed, ruefully. “But what happened is just a silly accident and you don’t need to feel self-conscious because you’re perfect, okay? Whatever it is that you think makes you different, I can honestly say that I don’t see it. It’s invisible to me.”

“You don’t see it because—”

“Wait, is it to do with your dick?” Louis whispered. “Is it crooked?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer; flummoxed by Louis’ interruption.

“I’m not sure how to tell you so I’m just going to blurt it out,” Harry persevered. “I’m—”

“Gentlemen,” the waitress addressed them; oblivious to the looks of the two men at the table she was serving. “Is your food okay?”

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” Harry smiled, placing his fork down.

Louis nodded; sliding glances at Harry as he pretended to enjoy the rest of his lasagna.

“I should get back to the shop,” Harry announced.

“You were about to tell me something,” Louis gently coaxed.

“Another time, maybe?” Harry forced a smile that made Louis' stomach tighten and not in a good way.

_Another time? _

Harry stood up, opening his wallet.

“My treat,” Louis lifted a hand to grasp Harry’s wrist ever-so-tenderly.

Harry paused, swallowing visibly.

“Thank you.”

“You can tell me anything,” Louis promised, frustrated and concerned. “Anytime,” he added.

Harry bit his lip for a charged moment and then he nodded, shifting to break their connection.

“See you later, Lou.”

“Yeah,” Louis promised; brows furrowing as Harry left the diner.

//

Colin liked the piano.

Louis had uncovered it with the intention of tuning it up; planning to get rid of it with the pretence he just didn’t use it enough; whilst _actually _wanting Harry to gain some good profit from re-selling it for it’s genuine worth.

Anything to prevent Harry from looking for the ring.

Not that he’d tell Louis he had once been in possession of it because if their lunch date had proved anything; it was that Harry still didn’t trust Louis enough to confide in him.

And maybe Louis needed to tell Harry some of his own deep, dark secrets for the other man to feel reassured but the truth was that Louis didn’t _have _any. He was a veritable bore.

He had nothing juicy to tell.

Except perhaps, his feelings. But those feelings pertained to a man that didn’t reciprocate them so the only topic that he _could _confide in Harry about, he also _couldn’t _because it was Harry-related.

_Fuck._

The cat was a cute nuisance as he worked on the instrument; small paws pacing up and down the keys to produce out-of-tune sounds.

Louis distracted him with a banana- something he wasn’t even aware cats _ate _until Colin had stolen half of his banana and custard dessert one evening.

The treat hadn’t lasted long and Louis had given in to allowing Colin to make his own tuneful music while he himself lounged on the sofa.

At first he thought he’d imagined the sequence of notes; no longer random and jumbled. But then it happened again; definitely deliberate.

He sat up; hairs prickling at the back of his neck as he stared at the green-eyed feline who was carefully treading on keys to make the sounds he wanted.

It was the song.

The song Louis had taught Harry that day the piano had been moved into his house.

The day that it had all fallen apart.

A swirl of nostalgia surrounded him as it came flooding painfully back.

∆∆∆

“Where are we putting it?” Harry asked, unleashing the elastic ties from the truck bed where they pinned down the tarpaulin cover.

“In the living room,” Louis explained. “I’ve cleared a space, the worst bit is getting around the hall door.”

“We’ll just take it slow,” Harry winked, ringed fingers pushing through his dark curls which flopped straight back down onto his forehead.

“Do you want to take your rings off?” Louis checked.

“Nah,” Harry smiled. “They’re pretty hardy.”

The lifting of the piano was strenuous. Getting it onto the truck hadn’t felt half as difficult as getting it off. They shuffled, inch by inch to the door and then rested; panting and sweaty in the hallway.

Louis took off his sweater and discarded it on the floor while Harry hung his on the bottom staircase bannister.

A quick, shared energy drink was consumed before they clattered inside, more brute force than controlled muscle .

“Fuck,” Harry put the piano to rest in the cove under the stairs.

“You can say that again,” Louis leaned against the stairs to breathe.

“Fuck,” Harry teased, a crooked grin flashing his imperfect teeth.

“Steady, now,” Louis straightened up to smile openly. “A guy could think that was invitation...”

A dark flush appeared on Harry’s chest that definitely wasn’t a result of shifting heavy instruments.

“Going to show me how you play?” Harry asked; and it sounded like innuendo but Louis was too afraid to assume.

They might have been flirting for the last nine months but it had never gone beyond that, Harry usually the one to pour cool water on their heated exchanges.

“Actually, you could help me to tune it,” Louis invited, not wanting Harry to leave yet. He liked how natural Harry looked in his cottage; all tall and lean and pretty.

“If I must,” Harry teased, heading to the truck to fetch the bench seat.

It didn’t take long for the piano to sound tuneful.

“Wait, I’ll show you a song,” Louis sat beside Harry when he shifted to get up.

“If you’re quick,” Harry chastised in a deep voice.

Louis looked into eyes.

“Not really but I’ll try.”

Harry’s lips pulled into a knowing smirk.

“Teach me.”

So Louis did. He showed him the opening five bars of _Endless Love._

And Harry’s smile was so goofy as he got the hang of it and played it through, again and again on his own that Louis couldn’t help just staring; watching the gentle gracefulness of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his arms exposed by his retro t-shirt.

Harry petered out; becoming aware of Louis’ look and returning it; half curious, half affectionate.

It was Louis that moved his gaze to Harry’s mouth first; unashamedly fixing his stare where his mouth wanted to be, coaxing those plush pink lips open and delving inside to search for treasure. How did Harry sound when he was pleased? Was it a deep moan or a soft, high-pitched whine? Suddenly it was the only thing Louis needed to know; above all else.

The pulsing of that need intensified when Harry’s eyes slipped lower, too. Olive green; overwhelmed by black. Louis licked his lips to check that Harry was looking and Harry’s slight intake of breath confirmed that he _was_; that maybe, against all the odds, he _did _want to kiss Louis back.

And _fuck_.

If Louis didn’t want to just lean in and cup the back of his neck gently to guide him into the sweet connection their mouths would make—

“Um,” Harry shifted; clearing his throat.

Louis froze, mid-lean; not quite aware he’d moved closer to make the kiss happen. Their thighs were plastered together; the angle awkward. Harry’s gaze flitted away. “I have to—uh. I have to go...”

“Oh.” Nausea flooded Louis' stomach as Harry got up_._

_Fuck. _He was _leaving_. He was _escaping_.

Harry frowned, feet tangling as he got up too quick.

“Not—no,” he breathed, confused. “I—thank you,” he managed, nostrils flaring. “I had a wonderful time.”

Louis nodded, eyes tracing the shape in the leather seat where Harry’s behind had just been settled.

_Obviously he’d had a **wonderful** time. Hence why he was **leaving**. Before Louis could **kiss** him._

“Have a good afternoon at work, H,” Louis murmured; avoiding looking at him.

Harry hesitated; his jean-clad thighs visible out of the corner of Louis’ eye as he fidgeted; a sigh finally sounding before he shifted to leave.

“See you around, Louis.”

Those words had hurt more than the physical rejection. _See you around_ held no commitment or promise. Not like _See you tomorrow _or _Call me later._

It was a clear distancing phrase. _See you around. _As in, _don’t visit._ Don’t call by. Don’t bother unless we happen to cross paths.

Louis didn’t bother to cross paths.

∆∆∆

“Right, kitty,” Louis surged up off the sofa, sniffing away the emotions that he wiped from his face onto the backs off his hands. “Either you’ve got some witch-stuff in you or I’m having a nervous breakdown...”

_Meow._

“Actually, yeah, you’re probably right,” Louis snorted; throat thick with tears. “That’s what happens when you invite the love of your life to stay in your spare room.”

_Meow._

“Especially when said love doesn’t even fucking know,” Louis lifted the cat off the piano and closed the lid over the keys; brushing his cheek into the cat’s attempt at affection; rubbing his face against Louis’.

_Meow._

“And the reason he doesn’t fucking know is because I tried to kiss him and he fucking _bolted. _Couldn’t get out quick enough,” Louis remembered; stemming off a second round of tears. “But hey...”

_Meow._

Colin slipped from his grip to nestle against his chest; nuzzling against his neck.

“Everything is just _fine_,” Louis whispered; to himself or the cat he wasn’t sure. “One day I’ll meet someone who’s just _better,_ yeah? Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t!”

To his own ears, he sounded hysterical. Colin made a soft mewing noise.

“Just because every fucking bloke I’ve tried to date in the last six months hasn’t held a candle to Harry doesn’t mean that there isn’t a guy out there for me. I just need to—lower my expectations a bit, right?”

Colin’s _meow _sounded sad.

“It’s not fair to measure everyone else against him, is it? He’s fucking perfect, really so that’s just not realistic,” Louis mumbled as he headed back to the sofa with the cat.

Colin cuddled up like he knew Louis needed it right in that moment.

“It’s—its time isn’t it?” Louis rasped, letting his tears fall this time, his sniffle that much louder, the tightness in his chest unbearable. “It’s time to let go.”

_Meow._

Louis dashed away his tears.

“Fuck...it _hurts_.”

Colin began to lick underneath his chin, Louis cry-laughing into a moggy kiss.

“At least I’ve got you, eh? At least you love me. I love you too, Colin,” Louis cradled him with a sniff. “I love you so much.”

//

“Where’s that _fucking _ring?!” Harry yanked another box off the storage shelving in the back of the shop and frantically rabbled through the contents; his breath spiking as hysteria overtook. “Fuck! Where is it? It _has _to be here!”

Louis had told him he _loved _him. As a _cat _maybe but that was a small detail in the scheme of things.

The spell would have been _broken_ if only he’d had the ring!

In his cat-form he wore it around his neck, always hoping to hear those words but for the past nine years no matter how much he meowed and purred, he’d never been told he was loved.

The spell was cast when he was sixteen; evil witches resigning him to a life of loneliness; unable to become the man he wanted to be until the words _I love you_ were said to his human or cat form; with true feelings behind them.

Shifting into a cat from sunset until sunrise had become second nature; but things were becoming complicated, now.

Louis _liked _him and had been hurt by his rejection; a rebuffal he had only made because he couldn’t possibly tell Louis the truth. How could he? He had tried, over lunch and the reality was so absurd that he wouldn’t blame Louis for hospitalising him on grounds of mental insanity.

Instead he watched, broken hearted, every day as the man he loved cared for him. Brought him muffins and drinks and _offered him a place to stay._

_Fuck._

“Where’s that number?” Harry knelt up; inspiration striking him.

The man who came into the shop had been looking for the ring. Only six people in the world that Harry knew of had been cast under the same spell; destroying the jewellery once the spell was broken so as to prevent any further incantations.

But the visitor clearly knew someone _else _with a spell to reverse. And if he got to a ring before Harry did then maybe; just maybe he could borrow it to break his own curse.

Maybe Louis would tell _Colin _he loved him again and Harry would be free to say it back.

He got up to look for the contact card; leaving the mess he’d made behind him.

//

“Hey,” Louis bounced into the kitchen after his post-work shower; finding a glum-looking Harry flitting around the kitchen sorting through laundry. “You ok?”

“Late,” Harry grimaced. “Nothing clean,” he added; sniffing Louis' hoodie and stuffing it under his arm.

He was in boxers and a t-shirt and Louis snuck a look at his legs.

“Oh. Pretty sure I’ve got trackies that would fit you...”

Harry nodded; eyes sad.

“Thank you.”

Louis went to fetch them; Harry dressing in the middle of the kitchen floor when he returned.

“H...” he approached; sliding his fingers over Harry’s forearm and shoulder gently. “Look at me?”

Harry stubbornly kept his gaze away.

“I’m late,” he said again; voice thick.

“Love, you’re not in any state to go to work,” Louis posed. “Come and sit down...”

Harry shook his head, sniffing.

“I—I have to go. You don’t understand.” Harry tried to step out of his touch. Louis grasped his jumper.

“You’re right I don’t. Tell me,” he encouraged.

“Can’t,” Harry rasped; desolate.

“Is someone threatening you?” Louis wondered, his mind galloping ahead. “Are you hurt?”

“I have to go,” Harry flicked panicked eyes at him, breaking away. He went to snatch the joggers from Louis. Louis swept them out of his reach.

“I’m calling your work,” he stated, concerned. “I want to know what the fuck has got you like this.”

“Nothing!” Harry beseeched. “I’m just late, that’s all!”

He reached for the trousers again and Louis let him take them this time.

“Harry, you’re fucking _scared_,” Louis accused. “It’s just a shitty phone job, it doesn’t matter if you don’t turn up.”

“It’s not shitty!” Harry yelled back; tears cascading his beautiful face.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I like it!” Harry argued, darting to pass Louis but Louis caught him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s not shitty. I just meant that you’re more important, yeah?”

Harry stared over Louis’ shoulder, sobs contained.

“Let me go,” he whispered.

“Not happening,” Louis assured. “Not until you talk to me.”

“You won’t fucking believe me if I tell you!” Harry exasperated; pulling away successfully but Louis' hands still gripped the fabric of the jumper to stop him escaping.

“Try me,” Louis dared.

“Oh right, and lose you all over again? I’ve lost enough because of this fucking _hex_, Louis, I barely survived the first time, I can’t do it again!”

Louis took a sharp breath.

“So you _are _cursed.”

Harry glared at him, swallowing hard and flexing his jaw.

“No.”

“How did you lose me? I’m right here, Harry. I’m trying to help you!”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said anything. Please; Lou. I have to go!”

“Why?” Louis begged. “What’s so fucking important that you can’t stand there and tell me the truth?”

“Because the truth is fucked up!” Harry yanked himself out of Louis’ grip and circled the kitchen; Louis fielding him like a bad football player.

“It’s okay,” Louis promised. “However bad it is—”

“Lou, please! Just—let me go!”

Louis hesitated; watching Harry closely for which way he intended to lunge; ready to block him.

Harry paused; shaking, eyes dark.

“Please;” he whispered; the fearful plea catching Louis right in the chest and leaving him breathless.

It took him a moment to realise that Harry was no longer trying to escape.

“It’s too late...too late...I’m the cat...I’m the cat, Lou. Don’t you see? It’s fucked up, it’s so fucked up...”

His words tumbled together; tear- mangled and breathy with panic.

“I’m going to change, you don’t understand...it’s a curse. The love curse, it makes me turn into a cat...”

Louis frowned, barely able to make sense of his words, moving forward to hold him; just to hold him and reassure him that everything would be okay. He had his arms around Harry even as Harry tried to squirm away; gasping for air and begging him to listen.

“I love you,” Louis told him, honest and real. “It’s okay. I love you.”

Harry broke down into uncontrolled sobs; fingers searching for fabric to grasp onto.

“You can’t!” He rasped, distraught. “I’ve been lying to you! It won’t break the spell without the ring! I lost the ring, Louis! I’m never going to be normal again!”

“Shh;” Louis scrunched his fingers into Harry’s hair, holding him tightly. “It’s okay, love.”

Harry gave into his desolation and hugged him back, knowing that in short moments, as soon as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, he’d be _Colin_ again and Louis would be holding a black cat wondering what the fuck had happened.

“I’m so sorry, Louis. I’m sorry...I love you too...”

“Fuck,” he heard Louis whisper; felt him squeeze a bit tighter and Harry knew it was coming.

It was inevitable and overdue and _why wasn’t he changing_?

“The curse,” he rambled, fisting Louis’ jumper in his hands. “Why isn’t it working?”

Louis soothed a hand over his broad back.

“I’ll protect you, I promise.”

“No,” Harry sniffled, pulling away to look outside, seeing that the sun really _had _set and checking his watch to confirm it. “You—how?”

Louis frowned, pushing his fringe away from his face gently.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not—I’m not the cat.” Harry stared at him, frightened.

Louis lifted his brows.

“You’re not, no, love...”

“The ring...”

Louis smiled.

“Check your pocket.”

“What?”

“Go on...the joggers,” Louis prompted.

Harry dug his hands into the jersey fabric and gasped, cool metal brushing his fingertips. He pulled the ring out of the left-hand pocket.

“Didn’t want you selling it,” Louis told him. “It’s too fucking pretty. Especially not to that guy who knew about your curse- what _was _that?” Louis wondered, then moved on upon seeing Harry’s rapidly paling face. “Hey, it’s okay. I kept it safe. But you looked so fucking upset before and I put it in there so you’d find it at work.”

“You wouldn’t let me _go_ to work,” Harry sniffed.

“Right,” Louis swallowed. “But I wanted you to find it.”

“You broke the spell,” Harry told him, awed.

Louis looked bemused.

“I um...I did?”

Harry nodded, sliding the ring onto an empty finger while Louis cupped his arm.

“Love, I think we need to sit down for a minute,” he murmured.

Harry nodded again, stumbling a bit as Louis guided him into the living room where he plopped onto the sofa.

Louis brought through tea and thick slices of cake to sustain them.

“Think you better start at the beginning,” Louis broached as Harry consumed his cake in three bites.

He twisted a bit on the sofa to look into Louis' eyes.

“I was put under a spell,” he murmured, voice whispery. “I was sixteen and my Mother wronged some witches who cursed us both. The spell meant I changed into a cat every night from sun down to sun up...”

Louis' mouth fell open.

“The ring, as I told you, was the spell’s empowerment I guess you’d call it. I lost it a few months ago. Right before—” He swallowed. “I wanted to kiss you back,” Harry beseeched; thoughts broken as he reached out to touch Louis' face. “You have no idea how much.”

Louis closed his mouth.

“Okay, so that explains the never going out at night.”

“And the night job,” Harry inserted.

“And the sneaking in as Colin...”

“And the waking up naked on your lap...”

“Fuck!” Louis gasped, laughing.

“The um...the way to break the spell was for someone to say that they loved me,” Harry explained, coyly. “In either form. While I was wearing the ring.”

Louis frowned, eyes flicking to Harry’s after he reached for his hand.

“Nobody ever told you they love you?”

Harry shook his head.

Louis wiped away some tear tracks with his thumb.

“_I _love you. I’ve loved you for so long now and I was going to give you up...”

“I know,” Harry whispered, kissing his palm.

Louis sucked in a breath.

“You heard everything.”

Harry smiled shyly.

“You were very open with Colin...”

“Fuck.”

Harry took both of Louis' hands in his, resting them on his knee.

“I tipped everything out looking for the ring. I thought you might tell Colin you loved him again.”

“Instead I told _you_.”

Harry let go of his hand to frame his jaw, lip bitten.

“I was completely freaking out and telling you _everything_.”

“You weren’t making much sense to be honest, love...”

Harry’s lips split into a huffed smile; the sparkle dimming in his eyes as his smile slipped a bit.

“Can you forgive me?”

“For being a cat?” Louis mused.

Harry swallowed.

“For not kissing you back...” He whispered, features expressing his pain.

Louis tipped his head side to side.

“You think you might do it now?” He wondered, eyes twinkling.

Harry’s smile was slow but genuine as he nodded. He leaned in, brushing his thumb lightly over Louis' lips before he pressed his own there; sliding them together carefully as Louis shifted to angle himself into the embrace; the kiss as surreal as the last hour had felt.

Harry pulled away, lashes pressed to his slightly flushed cheeks as he licked his lips, opening his eyes to gauge Louis’ reaction.

“Lou?”

“Hm?” He leaned in to kiss Harry again, a sweet lingering kiss that drew a soft noise from Harry’s throat.

“That’s um...” Harry dimpled as he shifted in embarrassment.

Louis kissed his cheek.

“Beautiful. God, so beautiful....always,” Louis promised.

Harry reached to hug him around the shoulders, earning a huff of laughter from Louis.

“This whole climbing in my lap thing...now that you’re not a cat, it’s a _bit_ awkward,” he joked.

Harry gently pushed him back against the sofa and straddled his hips.

“You don’t want me in your lap, Lou?” He teased.

“Well,” Louis grasped his waist gently. “Let’s not be hasty....”

//

Harry truly was feline despite his loss of ability to shapeshift _into_ one.

He liked to snooze in the sun. He loved being fed from Louis’ fingers. He practically purred when Louis played with his hair and—

“Yeah, Lou... hmmm, right _there..._”

Harry would always; _always _stretch himself out when he was experiencing pleasure.

Underneath him, Harry writhed, legs wrapped around Louis' waist and torso lengthening for touch. Louis indulged him; thumbing at his nipples.

“Hmmmm,” Harry’s deep moan had Louis thrusting, fingertips dragging down his body to his belly.

The way Harry arched his back to take him deeper would always be his favourite thing. Nearly as much as taking him from behind where he could watch his cat tattoo flex with the muscles underneath his skin.

“Love,” Louis panted. “Beautiful.”

Harry opened his eyes to fix the darkened green on Louis. They’d been sharing a bed for a year now; Harry finally able to fully enjoy his evenings.

At first he hadn’t wanted to sleep, too excited to do all the things he had always wanted to. But now he much preferred staying in.

Because staying in meant being with Louis; whether it was curled up under a blanket on the sofa with Louis’ arm around him as they watched TV together or like _this_. Fucking.

“Lou,” he pleaded, licking his lips and arching his hips as Louis sank down; the impact intense as their eyes met.

Louis adjusted their position to kiss him, fingers clutching into his hair and wrapping around his bicep possessively.

Ever since the night the spell was broken Louis had taken possession of Harry in a way that still made him hot when he thought about it.

Louis made a point to _always _bring him refreshments during his work day; he picked Harry up and dropped him off whenever his work engagements allowed and he had announced to the pub full of locals that they were, in fact, boyfriends; something that made Harry’s tummy clench and skin burn as he moaned helplessly out loud.

But he wasn’t the kind of possessive that was unhealthy. Harry stubbornly insisted on making Louis a packed lunch to take with him every day and walked around the house in shorts because he knew Louis liked that; and he kissed Louis on the mouth outside the shop every time he visited just in case any of the villagers thought Louis wasn’t equally loved in return.

“Babe,” Louis gasped, thrusts stuttering as he struggled to hold on.

Harry cupped the back of his neck and kissed him dirtily; lips dragging along his cheek to whisper in his ear.

“Want to feel you inside me,” he pleaded.

Louis _was _inside him but he knew what Harry meant and he withdrew slightly as his release pulsed out of him; Harry whining quietly as the liquid filled him.

“Fucking hell,” Louis marvelled; overwhelmed, desperately pressing kisses to Harry’s mouth as he gripped his shaft and stroked; Harry spilling over his fingers within short seconds of being touched.

Louis rested on top of him; panting; mind blown and completely in love.

“Kinda miss the days you used to have fur,” Louis murmured as he carefully eased out.

Harry smiled like a satisfied cat and clenched his arse cheeks together.

“Why, do you have a thing for hairy men?” He asked, frowning. “Or animals?”

“You used to just curl up on my lap all cute and innocent,” Louis explained.

Harry’s smile was slow and dimpled but no less sexy. He pulled Louis into his arms to cuddle.

“You don’t like the hot sex?”

“Don’t think my brain can cope with it,” Louis mused.

“Technically you don’t need your brain....just your body.” Harry mumbled.

“I like my brain.”

“I _love_ your brain.” Harry squeezed him as he settled between Harry’s thighs.

Louis pressed his cheek against one of Harry’s defined pectorals.

“_How_ much do you love my brain?” Louis wondered, shifting so that he could look Harry in the face.

Harry smiled shyly.

“You know. Um. More than any other brain...”

Louis hummed.

“And obviously I love your brain completely,” Louis stated.

Harry blinked, bemused. He yawned, body stretching automatically but he looped his arms around Louis to keep him close.

“Obviously,” he echoed tiredly.

“There’s nobody else I’d want, in fact,” Louis thumbed his jaw. “Just you, love.”

“Same,” Harry sealed his promise with a gentle kiss. “You’re mine, Lou.”

“Right, so now we’ve got _that _clear,” Louis shifted to crawl out of their comfy embrace; clambering off the bed naked to walk to the dresser.

“Lou?” Harry sat up, brows furrowing as his gaze followed his route.

“Shush, love, don’t ruin it,” Louis winked over his shoulder. “There it is,” he murmured quietly, plucking a small box from the drawer and palming it.

Harry stared.

“Fuck.”

“Done that already,” Louis teased.

He crawled back onto the bed, wincing at his naked state and getting back up to hastily drag on his shorts.

“Actually, love, I need you to stand up,” Louis directed.

Harry pulled on his red jumper and lifted his legs over the side of the bed; tugging the hem down to cover his manhood.

“Harry...” Louis took a deep breath and let it out, meeting Harry’s eyes. As stunned as Harry looked; at least it was keeping him quiet. “I’ve loved you since the day you moved into the village, pretty much. And I spent a few months thinking I didn’t have a fucking chance,” he mused. “But then a miracle happened and maybe you’re still under some kind of spell because I think you really do love me back and—well, that’s all I’ve ever wanted, really. Just the chance to show you that I can make you happy...”

“I really _do_ love you,” Harry assured, softly. “And you make me amazingly happy, Lou.”

Louis took a breath and opened the box, lifting out the vintage gold band that housed a stunning olive opal surrounded by diamonds.

Harry gasped, his eyes flicking up.

“That’s the ring I had at the shop!” He accused. “The one with the—with...”

“The cat’s eye,” Louis smirked.

The ring had been in the cabinet for several weeks; Harry gazing at it wistfully every time he passed by, reluctant to show it off to buyers and using the excuse of the price tag to put them off purchasing it.

Louis had known Harry wanted the ring right off the bat but he also knew that Harry wasn’t going to simply let him _buy_ it for him. So he’d sent one of his friends in who didn’t live nearby and made them buy it from a very pouty looking Harry; secretly harbouring the jewellery until he was ready to propose.

“I may have gotten someone to sneak in and get it for me,” Louis conceded with a fond smile as Harry began to cry.

“Lou!”

“You weren’t doing much of a job of hiding that you liked it,” Louis teased, covering the fact he was lowering himself to one knee as gracefully as he could manage.

Harry smiled through his sniffles, stretching out his shaky fingers for Louis to slide it on.

“Harry...I promise to take care of you always. Will you marry me?” Louis tried to swallow on a dry throat.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, cheeks tracked with happy tears. “Fuck, yes...”

Once the ring was in place, Harry pulled Louis up off the floor and curled him into his arms.

“I’ll love you and protect you too,” he promised in a raspy voice. “Louis, the way you just—you’re unconditionally _there _for me. I never believed we could have this because—well who wants to marry a _cat_? Or a man with a curse? But y-you,” he licked his lips, voice wobbling. “You told me you loved me even after I freaked out. You didn’t know _what _I was saying but you didn’t care,” he swallowed. “You just wanted me to know you’d always be there.”

“I will always be here,” Louis smiled, kissing his mouth tenderly. “Always. Even if you turn back into a cat.”

Harry snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Quite liked waking up to your bare arse,” Louis reached to squeeze said behind with a cheeky smirk.

“And here I had been hoping that the mortification of that occasion might fade one day ...”

“Come here, love,” Louis brushed his thumb over Harry’s jaw and tiptoed to kiss him. It was hesitant and gentle at first; Harry humming a little and looping his arms around Louis’ waist to bring them closer. More comfortable in the embrace; he deepened the kiss; sliding his hands over Louis' still naked back.

“So, _fiancé_,” Harry’s eyes twinkled as the kiss broke apart.

Louis stared at him for a moment, awed. It was _real._ Harry had said _yes. _They were _engaged. Fuck._

“Yeah,” Louis breathed; smiling slowly.

“I think you’ve earned a hand-cooked dinner and an after-dinner piano performance...”

“Oh?” Louis smirked, fingertips tugging at the hem of Harry’s jumper teasingly.

“Yeah, I mean...you asked me to marry you so I thought it’s only fair to do something nice for you, too...”

Louis grinned at his joke; smacking his bare bum playfully.

“_Nice_,” he tutted. “Washing your hair every morning is _nice. _Getting up a ladder to hang lanterns at the front of your shop is _nice_.”

“Those _are_ pretty nice, Lou,” he grinned, pulling Louis against him where he’d just slipped free of his arms. Harry’s woolen-clad chest felt comfortable shaped against his back.

Louis rubbed his thumb over the large opal centering the ring that now had pride of place on Harry’s finger amongst his other chunky rings.

“Looks good, love.”

“Hmm,” Harry nuzzled into his neck; reluctant to break the spooning cuddle.

“Everything okay, babe?” Louis checked.

He felt Harry’s lips press a kiss against his skin.

“You know what?” He murmured; voice lazy soft. “Everything is purr-fect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and gratitude to Mars for editing and Eles for inspiration :)


End file.
